


And Get Nowhere

by Wawa_Girl



Series: I've Loved These Days [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Amateur Dirty Jokes, Amateur Wordplay, Banter, Bickering, Bittersweet Themes, Childhood Memories, Dorks in Love, Early Relationship, Earth References, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Humor, Immaturity, Long String of Sitcom-Style Jokes, Memories, Nostalgia, Over-Thinking Music & Songs, Peter Quill is a Dork, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Ravager Humor, Romance, Rooftop Hijinks, Sitcom-Style Humor, Slice of Life, Space Dorks, Spaceship Naming!, Team as Family, Technical Space Chores, The Epitome of "No Plot", The Guardians Are the Almighty Lords of Non-Sequiturs, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wawa_Girl/pseuds/Wawa_Girl
Summary: "Why?" Gamora asked from several feet below them, an eyebrow raised and her tone slightly less hard - curious, suspicious, like she wasn't sure whether to buy this explanation.Peter didn't know if she was asking,'Why is that a common joke on Earth?'or'Why weren't you thinking before spitting it out right now?'but either way his quick reply was the same. "Noidea!" he said with the biggest fake smile. "Noclue, makes no sense, stupid--I don't know why it slipped out, meant nothing, forget it, I'msorry..." he continued rambling and reassuring to spare himself the fate of sleeping outside for the next month during the impending hail storm.(Or: Sometimes Peter has really bad "no filter" days, and rooftop antics ensue.)
Relationships: Drax the Destroyer & Mantis, Drax the Destroyer & Peter Quill, Gamora/Peter Quill, Mantis & Peter Quill, Peter Quill & Baby Groot, Peter Quill & Guardians of the Galaxy Team, Peter Quill & Rocket Raccoon
Series: I've Loved These Days [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675462
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	And Get Nowhere

"What are you fine architects up to?" Gamora asked the question in a teasing voice after returning from her tasks behind the ship, gripping the handles of a wheelbarrow full of supplies and looking up to where Peter and the rest of the team were sitting.

And Peter didn't even glance up from the spot he was hammering, just replied instantly with an equally teasing voice and an exaggerated Southern drawl.

"Man's work."

And just like that time stopped.

Peter froze in place and his eyes widened, both at the sudden silence and the realization of what had just left his mouth.

It was deathly quiet - so unlike the loud drilling and banging seconds ago - except for Rocket snickering, _'Ohohohoho shit...'_

Slowly Peter rose his head to see everyone around him, all having stopped their previous work or distractions. Wincing and turning his head sideways he saw Drax giving him the most judgmental stare.

Behind Drax, Mantis was gawking at Peter, her jaw dropped as though he'd just voluntarily signed his own death certificate.

Even Groot had a shocked look on his face from where he was perched on the edge of the windshield, no longer kicking his feet and staring at the clouds, but now staring at his _Captain_ for scandalous words he somehow understood were _not good_ , his little wooden mouth stuck in an "O" shape.

Finally Peter - terror probably scribbled all over his face - decided to glance down at Gamora.

_Why hasn't she said anything?_

_It's been an hour!_

_Oh, wait. No._

_More like ten seconds._

Gamora held a look of pure shock and mild offense - Peter was honestly kinda surprised it wasn't worse - and a hand firmly on her side.

"What?" she challenged slowly. Her voice was cold as ice.

A string of nervous laughter finally escaped his throat, and Peter began stuttering and fumbling for a stupid excuse as a reflex, "I-I-I-I--it-it-it-it was a, a joke, a _dumb_ joke," he tried to explain, feeling like he was standing in the middle of a classroom in his underwear, with so many eyes on him waiting for an excuse that could never be good enough. "Very dumb, ha, I didn't mean it--I--sorry, it--it's an expression, a common joke, on-on Earth, and uh, guys used to--well, my--my grandpa--grandfather use--used to say...nevermind! I--"

"Why?" Gamora asked from several feet below them, an eyebrow raised and her tone slightly less hard - curious, suspicious, like she wasn't sure whether to buy this explanation.

Peter didn't know if she was asking, _'Why is that a common joke on Earth?'_ or _'Why weren't you thinking before spitting it out right now?'_ but either way his quick reply was the same. " _No_ idea!" he said with the biggest fake smile. " _No_ clue, makes no sense, stupid--I don't know why it slipped out, meant nothing, forget it, I'm _sorry_..." he continued rambling and reassuring to spare himself the fate of sleeping outside for the next month during the impending hail storm.

The silence dragged, Peter's throat feeling unbelievably dry as he wondered if he should say something else or jump from the roof, until Gamora loosened her arms and relaxed her body. She tilted her head and gave a tiny nod. Her expression was unreadable.

When she grabbed the railings and slowly climbed up the ladder, it took Peter a few oblivious seconds to realize that she was joining them.

And he was double stunned once she sat down _right_ next to him.

She looked at him and nodded again. "All right," she answered, her tone careful, seeming to believe him and dropping the topic for now.

Peter smiled shakily and nodded back, before turning his head pretending to look for another tool, and blowing out the _longest_ breath of relief, as though he'd just narrowly escaped capture.

Rocket was still giggling his furry ass off, like that was the _funniest_ damn event to happen this side of the galaxy. Peter rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth, not daring to say anything in defense that could make things worse and get him thrown in the doghouse.

Gamora was inspecting their handiwork so far, and cleared her throat without moving her head, and Rocket's laughter faded.

Just when Peter was about to officially, _finally_ change the subject, Drax had to break the silence by nearly shouting - though it was really his normal voice - probably everyone's burning question, "But why would you say that to _Gamora?!_ "

"I DON'T KNOW!" he shouted in reply, also not moving his head. "Subject change!"

"I am Groot?"

"No, _of course_ women can-- _Gamora_ can build things, Buddy, you know that! It was a rude, bad joke. Sorry. Dumb moment."

" _Really_ dumb," Rocket muttered.

"Can we all _please_ change the subject?" Peter pleaded in annoyance to this frustrating as hell group of--

"Why, Quill? 'Cause it's the _male_ captain's orders?"

"Alright," Gamora said firmly through a sigh, this time looking directly at Rocket and giving a clear sign for everybody to move on. The little trash panda finally listened.

Peter again didn't know if Gamora was herself tired of this topic, or if she was being merciful out of love - or pity - and sparing him any more frustration and humiliation. Either way he gave her a grateful smile and mouthed a _'thanks.'_

She reached for his hand, slid her arm across the smooth metal of the rooftop, and squeezed his fingers without saying a word. 

So Peter assumed the latter.

"Ummm...how long will the rest of the tarp covers take to set up?" Mantis, _bless her_ , Peter always liked her, was the first to say an actual new sentence to change the subject. "Until dinner?"

Even if her questions were a little ridiculous sometimes.

"Mahahantis, we just started today," Peter said through giggles and turned around to smile at her. "It's a big job. _The Quadrant_ 's big." So much bigger than Peter had been used to for years on his own, that's for sure. "It'll probably take at least a week, even with all of us."

Fortunately no sarcastic _'even with mostly men working'_ comments came, and Drax continued explaining honestly. "The size and strength are insufficient for such a large ship and for the dramatic weather reports."

"Oh," Mantis replied. "Well how bad will the storm be?" she asked, not for the first time. Peter assumed she must have been daydreaming during their group discussions and plans about the upcoming storm warnings.

And that Mantis wasn't used to dangerous weather, or weather changes at _all_ really, after a lifetime on... _one_ planet.

"It's supposed to cover at least eighty-five percent of Xandar, and every surrounding planet within 100,000 clicks, and last for at least two weeks, possibly longer," Gamora answered. "So we should have plenty of layers over the ships, both for damage prevention and personal protection, since we will all be bound inside until the hail ends."

"Hmm..." Mantis said in response, before seemingly taking this information as a cue that she needed to step up to the plate and do her part to help more, by picking up a hammer that was _way_ too heavy for her, lifting it over her head with both hands, and preparing to smash it down onto the nearest nail.

Which probably would've done more harm than good, if Drax hadn't wordlessly taken it from Mantis' hand and pointed for her to try a simpler task.

"I still don't get why we can't jus' shove the ship in a parking cave and stay in a hotel 'til it passes."

"Because, as you may not have noticed, we're not _made of money_ ," Peter whipped his head around and answered.

"The Nova Corps usually have no problem puttin' us in a fancy hotel for free," Rocket retorted, because _of course_ he did.

"That's after a _job_ ," Peter said, exhausted, because Rocket knew all this; he just loved to complain. "We're not exactly _stopping_ the storm, now are we?"

"None of us possess those type of powers or skills," Drax said seriously.

"We can develop a better financial savings system for future emergencies," Gamora spoke up. "This should be safe enough this time; there isn't likely to be heavy building destruction. It's merely best to be prepared this way."

"And do _you_ wish to be inside one of the coastal hotels when the storm arrives, at the risk of immense flooding?" Drax asked pointedly at Rocket.

"...No?...No!" Mantis guessed and answered instead with a wide smile after a pause like the question was literal.

Well, Drax asked the question, so it probably was literal.

Either way Rocket shrugged and accepted defeat.

"And the Nova Corps are already giving us a new M-ship to replace _The Milano_ ," Peter reminded everyone. "We can't exactly ask for too much."

A part of him internally winced at his own use of the word "replace" regarding the ship that had been Peter's home and his baby for nearly twenty years. It may have been damaged beyond repair this time on Berhert, but it could never be _replaced_.

He was deeply relieved that Gamora understood his love for the thing, and that she didn't mind if Peter - confessed and proud pack-rat that he was - kept _The Milano_ around for extra storage and sentimental reasons, instead of stripping and selling it for parts.

Especially after losing Yondu.

But it would be convenient to have a similar functional M-ship around, rather than relying solely on _The Quadrant_ and its pods for all transportation, and buying brand new from a dealer would be a bit too expensive right now, even with Peter's fantastic haggling skills.

Yeah, they _could_ buy from a used vehicle lot, and Rocket was admittedly damn good at fixing up old machinery. But the entire team had all agreed to start fresh with something safe and new.

So it was perfect that the Nova Corps had agreed to supply them with a new smaller ship, in payment for recent jobs and gratitude for saving the galaxy... _again_.

Even if negotiation details and construction plans were still in the works months after the offer.

No doubt the storm would hold up production, but Peter guessed that they could all be patient and not too picky.

Heated seats would be neat, though. Pretty damn nice.

Maybe he would ask if heated seats could be thrown into the blueprints. He was willing to bet that _everyone_ could wait a few more months for those extra features.

They were _heroes_ now; not _outlaws_ anymore. They knew _how_ to get by on little; didn't mean they _had_ to.

"I think it is fun working on _our_ home together," Mantis said, back to the conversation about their home project in rebuttal to crashing in a hotel. "As long as we're all safe."

"I am GROOT!"

She looked behind her to Drax and Rocket, probably for a translation.

"He said 'and as long as there's enough sweets for weeks inside'."

"Agreed!" Peter said and gave Groot a thumbs-up.

To his left Gamora gave a bemused, pointed look, a silent reminder for Peter not to blow a good chunk of their food and grocery budget "stocking up" on more candy.

He _knew that_.

"Don't forget to use the _clear_ coverings for the windshields," Gamora reminded them. "Several layers. They're still in the packaging under the table in the galley."

"We will complete the entire surface in time!" Drax announced dramatically, tools lifted high the air. "No glass shall shatter!" 

The five of them gradually got back to work, turning on the drills to fill the silence and to make up for their time wasted chattering.

Peter's eyes drifted over to Gamora. She was in one of her hard concentration modes that he always found a mixture of admirable, attractive, and beyond adorable.

She was twisting each bolt with a wrench and then using her bare hand - the hand that wasn't still gently clasped inside his own - to test it for durability. 

Really, Peter didn't know how her hands were always so soft and gentle, given all of the mechanical work she did around here. Sure it wasn't her main interest or chosen chore, not on the same level as Rocket, but she was never afraid to get her hands dirty and chip in, checking everything for safety in her rigidly practical way.

Peter knew that before she had escaped, Thanos kept everything "perfect" without the need for upgrades and repairs, and how it was both the reason for Gamora's ingrained sense of precision, and her fondness for their team's scrappy, imperfect ships. Her fondness for real _homes_.

 _The Quadrant_ was currently parked in a small wooded area behind a local shopping center where they'd bought most of their supplies to install the tarps, and Peter at some point stopped to look at Gamora's profile against the background of thick trees.

She almost looked like a painting, the pink sides of her hair dangling near her face and brushing against her cheeks--

"Yo, Quill, you even working?!"

Rocket snapped him out of his thoughts, and Peter jolted his head up. "Yeah!" he shouted, a little too defensive.

Honestly, maybe Gamora working _right_ next to him wasn't the best idea - not for any "woman" reasons - but due to Peter's own distraction problems. He was going to lose a finger soon.

"We need some music up here!" he said to take all eyes off him again. And because it was true. _Everything_ was less boring, easier to concentrate, and just _better_ with music.

"I had assumed that none of you would be able to hear any music over all of the drills and commotion," Gamora said, and yeah, that was fair, but volume controls existed for a reason. 

The whole reason they'd decided to work in this secluded forest area was so that nobody at their usual docks would hear them and be pissed about the construction noise.

And it's not like it wasn't safe; none of them would start dancing up here.

Well...they would keep an eye on Groot.

"So crank it up louder!" Peter exclaimed. "No one will care!"

"On it!" Rocked announced and immediately scampered down the ladder on his side. Peter was a little surprised at his instant agreement and enthusiasm.

Then again, Rocket rarely complained about the music, seemed to always put his attitude problems and disagreeable nature aside to admit the tunes were awesome.

Or maybe he just was being lazy and wanted to get out of work.

"Fine. The speakers are all hooked up," Gamora called to Rocket as he left, making Peter wonder if she had been using them herself while she was inside taking inventory. "The Zune is on the flight deck."

"You mean the cockpit," Drax corrected Gamora seriously.

"What is the difference?" she looked up and asked Drax, voice deadpan.

"Well, you gotta admit that 'flight deck' sounds nicer than 'cockpit'," Peter heard himself saying, and smirked at what he thought in the moment to be a clever observation.

Instead of agreement, Peter was greeted by more judgmental stares.

_Oh crap._

This time Mantis didn't seem shocked or offended, still humming and gently tapping the nail below her with a much lighter hammer.

Gamora and Drax, however, were both cringing and giving him apprehensive looks.

_Sure, NOW Drax chooses to be Mr. Appropriate._

"Why?" Gamora asked for the second time now.

For a moment Peter wasn't sure if this was a translator problem (they all seriously needed a better system for puns and euphemisms) or if she was testing him, daring him to really spell out something so juvenile and dumb.

"You know...cause..." he trailed off and didn't say the word, deciding not to push his luck in Ravager humor again.

_This is why Ravagers need more women around!_

_For more than cheap hook-ups!_

"Nothing," Peter muttered and tried to drop it.

_Tried._

"OH! It is because the first half of the word 'cock-pit' sounds like--"

"Yeah, yeah, okay, let's drop it?" he cut off Drax's reply and made a slashing motion across his throat. He saw Gamora rolling her eyes and rubbing her head. It was nothing like her reaction to Peter's earlier stupid joke, so he figured that bit of crude wordplay wasn't _too_ bad.

Still, it was probably best to move on from it.

 _'There is a serious problem with my stupid mouth'_ , Peter thought.

He _really_ needed to start thinking first and grow up the hell up.

"I am Groo-hoo-hoo-hoot!"

"Okay, yeah, thank you, buddy," Peter said to the giggling child currently bent over and holding his small belly in laughter, which _was_ really adorable.

But Peter was certain that Gamora, and probably Rocket, wouldn't appreciate him encouraging Groot's language problem and dirty sense of humor.

"Where's the music anyway?!" he shouted, and as if on cue - or as though Peter's call was magic - the sound waves of a dramatic piano chord blasted through the speakers and made their way to the rest of the group's ears, likely scaring off any woodland critters nearby.

Peter couldn't deny that Rocket's song choice was decent and acceptable, even if he had wished that Rocket wouldn't switch the Billy Joel album that he and Gamora had been enjoying - and kinda addicted to - for the past few weeks.

But soon Gamora was moving her head to the sound of the harmonica, so it was fine background-working music in Peter's expert opinion.

It made sense that he wasn't able to hear it right away. Anytime this song came on the Zune _somebody_ in their little family would ask, _'Did the music stop?'_ because of that crazy long, quiet opening - before it sounded like somebody just pounded on a handful of low, deep keys all at once - the same way Peter used to do on his mom's home piano as a kid.

All the Guardians found the upbeat tune and repetitive title chorus super catchy, though.

Peter started nodding and humming along too. The song was pretty gothic for its time, for the good ol' '70s, and Peter remembered as a kid hearing the lead singer talk about the song's inspiration - about everybody wanting to find a home, and how living life from the heart makes you feel like you've really found your home.

Pretty optimistic and sappy, but kinda gloomy at the same time.

And themes about "home" were always nice and special to Peter now.

Groot calmed down his laughing and went back lying on the windshield and kicking his legs in the air to the beat of the song.

And there was a part of Peter that felt strangely nostalgic, sitting on the ship's rooftop with the crazy people he loved, the environment quiet while they weren't using their electrical tools, feeling _especially_ deja vu now that music had been added to the scene.

He didn't know why, didn't know what memory it was triggering. It wasn't general nostalgia; he never experienced any memorable rooftop adventures with Yondu or Kraglin.

Peter thought he remembered _everything_ with his mother, refused to forget those moments, no matter how small.

It was rare that he couldn't pin down specific memories right away, and it was kinda bugging him, even though it didn't really matter--

"What is a Romeo?"

He was pulled from his thoughts again when Gamora asked the question.

Ahhh right, the first line of the song. Yeah, that wouldn't be an understood, intergalactic reference. But _this_ he knew.

"It's...a guy who's lovesick?" Peter tried to explain in the simplest words. "Or a player? Loves dating and romance and girls? Loves just...being in love, I guess." Okay, he was pretty sure that sounded right. He normally pretended to be more confident than he actually was about Earth references, but lately had relaxed into honesty a bit more around the team. "It's based on a character in a romantic story on Earth. A really famous fictional love story." The origin of the expression "Romeo" he definitely knew, so the slang metaphorical use checked out.

"Hmm," Gamora accepted that answer and smiled beautifully at the thought. Peter decided not to tell her the ending to that story, though. 'Least not right now. It was kind of a bummer.

He knew that Rocket would've given him shit for that sappy summary, so Peter chose to bask in Gamora's happiness.

" _I_ have a question!" Mantis said, raising her hand up in the air. She didn't need to do that, but was probably mimicking the way Peter sometimes did whenever pretending to ask a question inside a classroom among the team's noise and bickering.

"Yeah?" Peter answered, assuming her question would be about more Earth song references.

"When _will_ the new ship be ready?" she asked instead, which was quite the non-sequitur, but Mantis was kinda random that way. And she did love learning about the mechanics and practicals of living as traveling heroes, and had underestimated the length of time this storm preparation project would last. 

"Oh," Peter replied anyway. "Not for a while, but..."

"The storm may slow production, but the officer I last spoke to estimated that it should be ready at the beginning of summer," Gamora informed Mantis - and the rest of them - only looking up from their section of the tarp for a moment. " _Xandar's_ summer," she clarified before anyone could argue.

"There you go!" Peter told Mantis and gestured to Gamora. She was so helpful with details.

Mantis seemed pleased. "I was only curious; I am happy with what we have," she said softly and looked down.

"That's fine! Please, get excited," he encouraged Mantis while trying to wrestle out a misplaced bolt that was _seriously stuck_. "We'll need to start the best part soon - picking out a name for the thing!" he exclaimed with appropriate passion.

"Oh yes, that is an essential, top priority," Gamora teased and smirked at his side.

"What is wrong with _The New Milano_?" Drax spoke up over the sound of his loud hammering. "It is so simple and honest."

"And _boring_ ," Peter rebuttaled with an eye roll.

Okay, Peter _had_ considered calling the new ride _Milano 2.0_ , but it would just keep getting shortened to _Milano_ by everyone, and there was only one _Milano_.

An awesome galaxy-saving team needed an awesome new spaceship name.

"There are so many cool bands and performers to chose from," Peter said, temporarily forgetting the stupid stubborn bolt and going back to hammering. " _The Runaways_ , _The Spinners_ , _The Jackson Five_..."

"Why do all of our things need to be named after your Terran celebrities that none of us know?" Drax rudely interrupted.

Peter sputtered and looked up. "Not... _everything_!" he reminded them. "Just...our ships..." he muttered in a tone that _might_ have been a little petulant. Maybe. "And you don't have to _know_ the human singers personally to admit that you all love those songs!" These knuckleheads all sang and danced to those artists like it was required for breathing, and they couldn't hide it from the Captain!

"They are not bad name ideas," Gamora placated him and rubbed his hand, looking him in the eyes again and smiling. "But we should all take a vote on this one - as a team," she said in her ever-so diplomatic way.

Fine, that was only fair, Peter told himself as he pushed with great disappointment _The Solo_ and _The Skywalker_ out of his brain, which he had _promised_ himself when he was six-years-old that he'd someday name his own spaceship.

"Well what are some of your suggestions?" he asked the four of them, genuinely curious if they had ideas.

"I am Groot!"

Peter smirked. "Cute, buddy. But I don't think you'd win Rocket's vote on that one." Groot really was taking after Peter's own heart.

"Puffalope," Drax stated. Gamora and Peter just blinked.

"Oh!" Mantis shouted. "We are allowed to create fake words?" she asked excitedly. "Fluffster!" she said and giggled almost drunkenly at the name, swaying dangerously on her side of the roof. "Or Fluffterson!" She giggled harder.

"It is not fake or nonsense," Drax interjected. Mantis deflated. "Puffalopes were native large beasts on my planet, hunted and defeated by only the bravest warriors, traveling to protect the innocents," he explained. "A name certain to strike fear into our enemies as we fly on equally noble battles."

It sounded more like a _Winnie the Pooh_ reject, but Peter decided to bite his tongue in _some_ respect. He saw Gamora holding back a laugh. Mantis was wide-eyed and nodding seriously.

"We'll...think about it," Peter managed with his best fake smile.

"How 'bout _The Craptacular_?" Rocket shouted from somewhere down below, Peter stunned again at the strength of his hearing, that Rocket even knew they were having this name-suggestion meeting without him. "'Cause let's face it, with Quill as captain, it's gonna be a crappy mess within a week! Or less!" Rocket continued to shout up at them.

"Not a week!" Peter defended and rolled his eyes. "And you can't beat that lived-in feel!"

"I don't know what that means," Gamora began slowly, "but if we can go one whole week mess-free it _will_ be a miracle," she teased at his left.

Man, her sarcasm game was _really on-point_ these days.

"Then it could be dubbed _The Actually, Miraculously Clean This Time_ ," Rocket added, again from out of their sight. This time Gamora visibly struggled not to outright giggle.

Even at his own expense, Peter wouldn't have minded. Gamora's laugh was always adorable and beautiful to his ears, made him happy to be alive.

And it wasn't a surprise that she got a kick out of Rocket's taunts on this subject. Despite appreciating the Guardians' more natural and imperfect living styles compared to military-sterile conditions in her former life, Gamora was still often somewhat annoyed by Peter's polar opposite cleaning routine (or...lack thereof) and continued to state that their bedroom was "still filthy."

He was working on it! He'd bought his very first laundry hamper after meeting Gamora for a reason.

Ravager, bachelor, outlaw habits were tough to break.

"Hahaha, I am Groot!"

As the song continued, the fun chorus blasting through the woods, Peter suddenly came up with a brilliant connection. "We could always go with _Super-Tramp_."

Followed by silence.

And more stares.

"Oh come on," he whispered under his breath in horror.

_Not again!_

_What the hell is wrong with me today?_

Gamora's face twisted in confusion - and mild disgust - as she looked at him and asked, _"What?"_

Though at least this time she seemed genuinely curious what the hell made him suggest that, as opposed to ice-cold anger.

Drax and Mantis looked disgusted too, Drax no doubt taking the name literally, and Mantis stuck out her tongue and made a gagging noise.

It wasn't a real suggestion, dammit, it was a _joke!_

He blamed Rocket for picking this song!

"Be...because we can...use it to...take the long way home?" Peter explained slowly, the connection sounding dumber and dumber inside his own ears. He'd been thinking about this song too much while working. "Get it? Cause of...cause of the song...?" he trailed off, making a waving gesture in the air, Drax still squinting at him as though he actually meant something else gross or offensive. They still didn't get it. "The _song_ playing... _right now?_ That's the name of the band, Super...so, ya know...and 'take the long way home?' so it's just a...just a joke..."

Gamora sighed next to him.

"I am Groot?"

"Not _that_ kinda--"

"Repulsive."

"Not very nice--"

"Okay! Sorry! Forget it, drop it." For the third time now. "Wow, this is _not_ my day for words," he muttered. "Tough crowd."

"Moreso _jokes_ ," Gamora corrected him patiently. "Not quite your day for _jokes_ , Peter."

Ya, he got that, considering every time he opened his mouth up here his sentences were treated like blasphemy.

Was he _sure_ there were no translator problems?

Bad frequency in these woods?

"They have been... _different_ today, Peter," Mantis said slowly.

He guessed that was being polite. It really was a coincidence, three jokes coming out wrong and being _unflattering_ in tone, but he'd gladly shut up just to get back on Gamora's tolerable side, and to get Drax to stop looking at him that way.

"Fine," he sighed as the fast-paced _Supertramp_ song faded to the end, a pleasant slowdown and a smooth transition into another random song, and Peter shook his head so that everyone would believe that he was getting his mind out of the gutter (despite it never _being in the gutter_ in the first place today).

The next song launched with a softer, mellow piano tune, and Peter realized it was Elton John (or ' _Sir_ Elton John' as the Zune was referring to him. What was that 'Sir' about anyway? Was it a joke, or did he become a knight on Earth or something? Could musicians become _knights_ now? _That'd_ be damn cool. He _was_ kinda like the British version of Billy Joel, after all).

Sir Elton singing about the sun, the darkness and light, the unknown, trashcan dreams coming true, and being grateful to any possible deity for the people he eventually found.

And Peter couldn't agree more, especially soaking up the lyrics of the first verse while glancing again at his lovely girlfriend.

"Could you pass the measuring rod, Peter?" Gamora asked, and yeah, it was easy to forget - in all that conversation and unjust humiliation - that they had work to do and that a huge storm was brewing.

"Sure," he said, and almost tossed her the rod, before stopping himself and handing it normally instead.

He had also almost forgotten that her hand was still entwined in his, their fingers firmly linked, and Peter was silently amazed that not only had Gamora been working so well one-handed, but that she hadn't let go once - even during her short annoyances with him.

"How about you, 'Mora?" Peter asked and she looked up. They did have work to finish, but Gamora had been mostly quiet during their suggestions and discussions. "Do you have any ideas? For the new ship's name, I mean." It was only fair to ask, and Peter couldn't help it - he was curious.

"Oh," she said, before ducking her head and giving a small shrug. "Well, I had thought of _one_ idea, but I don't know..." she trailed off with a smile, sounding unsure.

"Yeah? What is it?" Now Peter was _really_ curious.

"I've had the idea for some time, actually. It may be silly..."

"Let's hear it! Tell me!" he practically begged her.

_Spit it out, 'Mora!_

"I--" she stopped herself and looked ahead of them. Peter looked up too, and saw Mantis and Drax's eyes now glued on the two of them, impatient and eager.

"Maybe I'll tell you later?" Gamora whispered to him. "Alone?" she added, asking almost like an embarrassed child. And Peter understood.

He knew that Gamora struggled to share "fun" ideas or opinions around the others. She always felt more comfortable talking about practical topics and keeping them all in line regarding chores, battle strategies, finances, professionalism, and safety - her obvious skills. She felt less confident picking what music to listen to, which leisure activities to try, where to go on their dates, or what to eat for dinner (the others still gave her a lot of grief over her past cooking fire mishaps). She just never wanted to talk about fun plans if anybody besides Peter could hear, worrying that whatever she had in mind was silly, that she would be misinterpreting the entire point and be mocked by the team.

It was a totally unnecessary fear; the Guardians rarely teased Gamora (which really said something given this group's maturity levels). But with the exception of her beginner culinary skills, Gamora barely _had_ any traits _to_ mock, and everyone mostly focused their roasting energy on each other.

But it was an insecurity of Gamora's regardless, one that wasn't going to disappear in a heartbeat. And Peter respected it, wouldn't push Gamora to tell him her idea for the new ship's name in front of anyone, if deep down she feared group laughter or mockery.

Gamora had a damn thick skin - had been called horrible names throughout the galaxy - but deep down, everyone in their little ragtag family wanted to be accepted.

Peter was more curious than ever now, though. Gamora's ideas were never _bad_ (except maybe her version of spaghetti, and attempts at Monderine Vegetarian Stew), and he was willing to bet that this spaceship name was probably awesome. Even if it wasn't _The Skywalker_.

"Okay," he whispered back playfully and winked. "Later."

Drax and Mantis huffed - almost in strange unison - and looked disappointed. Groot looked bored from all this vague, secret talk.

"Thank you," Gamora said sweetly, and resumed her confident appearance and work on their edge of the tarp.

"It is getting dark," Drax stated the obvious.

"And I'm hungry," Mantis said, surprisingly before Drax this time.

"It's barely sunset yet," Peter said through a chuckle, trying to yank out that same misplaced bolt that _would_. _not_. _budge_.

He was getting kinda hungry himself though, and the sky _was_ getting dimmer.

"We can go inside to eat soon, but should maybe resume work earlier tomorrow morning," Gamora suggested while setting down her tools, before sitting up straighter and using her free hand to massage the back of her neck.

Peter was still too focused on his personal battle with the stubborn little thing--

"Do you need some help with that?"

"No, I got it," he lied and grunted.

_Who drilled this one in here?_

Next run to that supply shop they were shelling out for a reverse drill bit, goddammit.

And new work gloves.

Maybe Gamora being in charge of finances _was_ the best plan.

"Ugh," Peter sighed and leaned back, turning to Gamora. "Almost there," he said through his panting and wiped some sweat from his brow. 

"Mmm-hmm," Gamora said, not buying this update for a second.

"Really," he insisted. It was official. He wasn't eating until that thing was out. A point of pride.

Maybe stupid, but pride nonetheless.

He saw Mantis packing up and climbing down the ladder on the roof's other side. Drax gently picked up Groot from where he was curled up sleeping over the skylight.

It was a little early for him to conk-out; Groot was usually so energetic and hard to _get_ to sleep unless it was after a long, exhausting day of adventures.

Probably was bored to sleep from their adult conversations and mechanical talk.

Or tired out from pouting over the _'No Dancing On the Roof!'_ safety rule.

Peter picked up the wrench again and decided to take this short chance alone to say what he'd been meaning to. "Listen, about what I said earlier, when you first came outside, I'm really sorr--aahh!"

"What's wrong?" Gamora asked in a worried tone.

"Hand cramp, hand cramp! Shit!" he shouted, because that _really hurt_ , and grabbed his sore wrist with his other hand, suddenly unable to move his fingers, and the wrench slipped out of his grasp and fell onto the ground below with a loud clatter.

Again.

" _OW!!! QUILL!_ "

"SORRY!"

Rocket. Shit.

The _THUD_ wasn't loud enough to have landed on his head, fortunately. Must have hit a limb or his tail.

Still. Youch.

"How many times are you gonna toss junk overboard without d'asted looking down first--?!"

"Accident!" Peter yelled back in defense. "Don't be a turd!"

Gamora looked down at Rocket, then whipped her head back to Peter, giving him one of her famous _'Seriously?'_ looks.

Peter _again_ wasn't sure if she was reacting to he and Rocket's oh-so-mature banter, or at the knowledge that Peter had _accidentally_ dropped more than one tool on Rocket that day.

Five now, counting that wrench.

But he'd be okay!

"Heh. Just, uhhh..." he said while slowly flexing his sore fingers out of their short paralysis. "Just give my hand a sec--"

"Oh, let me," Gamora said impatiently, reached over his lap to grab another nearby wrench, looped it around the devil bolt, and yanked it out with zero effort in one swift motion, before dropping it into the palm of his good hand as he numbly watched in wide-eyed surprise.

He guessed she _really_ wanted to finally eat dinner, too.

A teasing smirk danced across her lips. "Man's work, huh?"

Peter didn't know whether to groan or smile back. "I told you it was stupid," he said with an honest laugh. He _knew_ Gamora was physically stronger than him, stronger than all of them combined. That was like asking if Hasselhoff was cool.

And he had been _about_ to apologize again, before his dumb hand muscles had interrupted. "I _really_ am sorry for saying that," he told her in his most genuine tone, very lucky that the rest of the guys weren't up here to give him more shit mid-apology. " _Super_ sorry."

"I know," she answered with an honest smile.

Really, it was a miracle that she could believe him, accept his apologies, and laugh things off so easily, considering how just days after they'd first met Gamora had held a knife to his throat over far less.

She took off her clear safety goggles with one hand and continued gazing into his eyes lovingly, stroking his hand that was feeling a whole lot better, and a gust of wind started blowing her hair around her face.

The sun began setting, a pleasant chill blanketing them both, and Peter suddenly realized which memory this rooftop experience had been making him subconsciously recall earlier.

It was that night in April when Peter was seven, and his grandfather was teaching him how to read a star map using the telescope he'd gotten him for Christmas.

That really was a thoughtful present, Peter realized looking back. Those things were expensive on Earth, but his grandpa knew how much he loved space - more than what he saw in _Star Wars_ , but really loved _learning_ about literal outer space and planets.

Still, a star map had sounded complicated as a kid, and earlier that day Peter had worried that the night would be boring.

But Mom made it fun. They brought a boombox with them onto the rooftop of their small house where they'd set up the telescope and blankets, Mom playing _Up on the Roof_ as a joke, blasting the corny swing tunes throughout the backyard for their neighbors' amusement - or maximum irritation.

( _'No dancing on the roof, Peter!'_ had to be a constant reminder for his dumb kid self too, so Peter understood Groot very much.)

Mom had spent most of the night inside the house, doing chores and making snacks to bring up to them, and Grandpa was patient while teaching him about the stars, in a way that Peter at the time had thought was the most advanced space knowledge and skill ever.

Oh, his naivety.

When Yondu had asked him at age nine if he had any interplanetary travel experience or survival skills, Peter proudly proclaiming, _'I can read a star chart!'_ was met with unimpressive Ravager stares.

Turns out there was a little more to learn.

It _was_ important basics though, and Peter was grateful now for the brief space hero training boost from his grandfather.

 _'That was a really nice night,'_ Peter couldn't help but think.

Grandpa had even carried him down from the roof and back inside the house - and tucked him into bed - as he was falling asleep as a child.

Just like Drax had done for Groot.

_Yeah. Nice night._

Gamora didn't seem to notice his little side quest into a wistful nostalgia trip, as he saw her starting to pack up their things.

Mom had also made several jokes and comments that night about loving romantic rooftop scenes in movies and TV - which at the time made Peter gag - but looking at Gamora now, seeing the sunset turning an even more beautiful shade of blue behind her, Peter totally got it.

_Of course Mom was right._

Peter was glad he'd finally remembered that evening. Grandpa didn't come over much before Mom...got sick, besides holidays. That's the only reason it had taken Peter some time to recall it.

And to recall subconscious lame jokes his grandfather used to make that Peter stupidly spit out at the worst times as an adult.

"...dinner? ...Peter?"

"Hmmm?" Peter snapped back to the present when he realized that Gamora was now talking to him and waving her hand in front of his face. "What'd you say?"

"I said, 'do you want to head inside with everyone else for dinner?'"

"Sure!" He was definitely hungry. Manual labor and sudden emotional memories did that to his stomach.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked in concern. His face must have really changed while zoning out.

"Absolutely!" Peter told her honestly with a smile and started shoving tools inside his jacket pockets.

"Maybe he thinks that's _your_ job, 'Mora! To call him in when dinner's ready!" Rocket shouted up at them again. "Woman's place in the kitchen--"

"SHUT UP!" Peter hollered back down before Rocket could finish that bullshit thought, then looked back to Gamora and mouthed a _'No!'_ while vehemently shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes and nodded, and began stepping down the ladder she'd first climbed to join them.

Peter crawled over to the opposite side of the roof and stepped behind the ladder that Mantis and Drax had used.

Gamora gave him a confused look, probably wondering why he hadn't used the same, closer ladder and climbed down after her.

Really, he just wanted to watch Gamora slowly climb down against the backdrop of the sunset.

"Hey," Peter said to her from across the roof while he could still see her head, a sudden idea popping into his own. "Wanna come back up here after we eat?"

Gamora looked confused again, tilting her head. "We _could_. It will be tougher to work in the dark, but we do have portable lamps," she said, contemplating, and Peter held back a smirk. Of course she assumed he meant to work. "But really, Peter, we are making good time. The storm isn't for another three weeks. We can wait to continue in the morning, if we start early--"

"Not for the tarps," he stopped her and explained. "I meant for fun, to relax. Just the two of us," he said softly. "It could be romantic," he added with a wink.

Now Gamora looked intrigued like he'd first hoped. "Would it?" she asked, and Peter knew now that she wouldn't completely dismiss the idea; she'd become far more comfortable allowing herself to enjoy leisure, romantic things, would stay in bed an extra twenty minutes just to cuddle - on mornings when they had no urgent plans - like she never would have considered before.

She apparently had just never assumed that the ship's rooftop would be a good spot for romance.

"Oh yeah! For sure!" he told her. "Rooftops are totally some of the most romantic places _ever_. Like, at least in the top three. Next to candy stores," Peter joked, and Gamora smiled. Then he switched his tone from silly back to genuine. "The stars should be brighter and easier to see out here, ya know, away from all the city lights."

Stargazing was one of their favorite romantic activities, and it didn't cost a dime.

The storm probably _would_ provide some gorgeous scenery if they found a nice, safe view, but the whole team would also probably start growing cranky - and a little stir crazy - within a week of being trapped inside. Or sooner.

This might be one of their few _chances_ to watch stars _outside_ for a while.

And any nocturnal birds wouldn't be scared away tonight by the sounds of drilling and hammering like in the afternoon.

"I might be interested," Gamora said, seeming very charmed by the idea, but keeping a casual, playfully uncertain composure that Peter could see right through like an X-Ray.

"You could tell me that idea of yours for the new ship's name?" he suggested gently. It _would_ be private. 

She looked as bashful as a cartoon dwarf and dipped her head, but nodded as the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. "And tell me that romantic Romeo story?" his girlfriend asked hopefully.

Peter cringed. "Uhh...maybe." Or not. Seriously, that book had one _downer_ ending. "But we can also bring some blankets and music--"

"Alright," she stopped him, clearly already sold. "I have no other plans. It's a date."

He grinned. "Awesome." They may not have _The Drifters_ to swing serenade them, but could easily find some sappy, romantic tunes. " _If_ you can find the way, of course," he joked - one of his stupidest jokes all day, but Gamora went along with it.

"I think I can navigate this new date location, but thank you," she teased back, and finally began to climb down the ladder.

"Maybe I can draw up and slide you a map across the table during dinner," Peter added with a final wink before climbing down his side too. "Just in case."

Yeah. He still had some good ideas.

**Author's Note:**

> The main songs referenced are _Take the Long Way Home_ by _Supertramp_ , _Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters_ by Elton John, and _Up on the Roof_ by _The Drifters_. ;)
> 
> This is also clearly keeping with the now popular fandom headcanon that Gamora named _The Benatar_ , which I did NOT invent, but have completely adopted. ^_^ (Also the headcanon about _The Benatar_ having heated seats I remember first reading on tumblr, but that was years ago and alas I do not remember the name of said fan. It was just subconsciously stuck in my brain. :P)
> 
> Thank you so much everybody for reading! This type of "characters just chillin' and working / random conversation segues / no real plot / slice of life" story is quite different from what I usually write and publish, and turned out far longer than expected. Hopefully you all enjoyed something nice and long to read during these crazy times. ;)
> 
> (Also I _swear_ that it's a total coincidence that this fanfic revolving around the topics of "storm preparation / stocking up on food and essentials / not looking forward to being cooped up inside for weeks or longer, but needing to do so for safety" was completed and published at the same time as the current 2020 pandemic quarantine, I did NOT plan it that way at all! This story premise has literally been in my notes for over a year, and I just finished the first draft over a month ago on Feb. 16th, IT JUST HAPPENED THAT WAY!!! LOL! Life is weird.)
> 
> Stay safe and healthy everybody! We'll get through this mess. Thanks again for reading! :)
> 
> My _Guardians of the Galaxy_ tumblr (though sadly less active these days, but the fanfics should keep coming) is [here](https://marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches.tumblr.com/)!


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